


a difficult winter

by hjea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-20 00:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5986036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hjea/pseuds/hjea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1953, Peggy Carter looked back at the winter of 1944/45 and noted how difficult it was. It started pretty well however.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a difficult winter

**Author's Note:**

> My partners-in-crime Carrie and Vhari get the credit for kickstarting the conversation about Peggy and Steve having the time at some point to imagine a future together. That invoked a lot of crying and gif sharing and, for better or worse, this fic. Thanks for the feels as always, pals. You're both real punks. <3

_“yes that was a difficult winter…”_

Peggy blinked awake in the darkness of her tent, knees drawn up to her chest and shivering so hard she was surprised she hadn’t woken sooner. She tugged her blankets closer and tried to curl into an even smaller ball, but to no avail. The temperature felt like it had dropped about ten degrees or more since she had fallen asleep--and it had already been cold enough then that she was wearing every item of clothing she had with her. It was unlikely she could get back to sleep now, and, as she considered that it couldn’t be more than an hour until her turn on watch, she might as well spend that hour being moderately warmer by what was left of the campfire. She groped for her boots in the darkness, cursing under her breath as she stuffed her feet into their icy depths, and then as silently as she could manage, fumbled open the tent ties and stuck her head out into the night. 

“Can’t sleep?” 

Peggy didn’t need to let her eyes adjust to identify the speaker. Steve’s soft whisper was as unmistakable as the large dark shape he made outlined against the soft glow from the fire. 

“Too bloody cold,” Peggy grumbled half-heartedly, and crawled the rest of the way out of the tent pulling her blanket with her. “There is absolutely no need for it to be this frigid out already. It isn’t even Christmas for five more weeks.” 

Steve laughed silently, his breath a sudden cloud in the night air. “Welcome to Poland.” 

“Yes well,” Peggy draped the blanket around her shoulders and moved toward Steve. He was sitting with his feet stretched out towards the glowing embers of the fire, back against one of the logs they’d dragged out earlier for seating, looking annoyingly comfortable in his half-buttoned army jacket. “Not all of us have the benefit of tent-mates to share some heat with.” 

Steve glanced over his shoulder toward the two tents housing the rest of the Howling Commandos, where a chorus of snoring at various pitch and frequency arose from both. Only the lack of a distinctly loud one alerted Peggy to the fact that Dum-Dum was one of those currently on watch. Steve gestured toward one. “If you think that’d be any more restful be my guest.” 

“As tempting an offer as that is…” Peggy rolled her eyes, “is that’s what’s keeping you up?” 

“Yeah but,” Steve shrugged. “I don’t need as much sleep. Thought I’d get some air, go over the plan for tomorrow, ....look at the stars.” 

Peggy squinted upward and counted about five stars visible to them through the pine trees. “How majestic,” she noted dryly. 

“You’re a real punk you know that, Carter?” Steve said with undisguised affection in his voice.

“I’m afraid it’s the company I keep. Terribly bad influences.” 

Steve laughed again and Peggy grinned to herself. Then, as another shiver ran through her top to bottom she remembered why she had come outside in the first place. She stepped closer to the fire, flapping the blanket toward the embers as she tried to trap in the residual heat. 

“Peggy--” The amusement was melting from Steve’s voice, and when she looked down at his face she could just about make out the look of concern on his features. “I’m sorry about the cold. It’s not really fair you gotta suffer through it on your own in that pup tent.” 

“It’s fine. It may shock you to know I don’t actually hold you accountable for the weather, Steve.” 

“Hey.” Steve shifted his legs, making space between them, and then beckoned to Peggy. “C’mere.” 

Peggy hesitated. It wasn’t that she held on to any delusions that the Commandos didn’t all have a pretty good idea of what was going on between her and Steve. But she still made it a point not to flaunt whatever they had in front of them, and especially not during the few times she joined them in the field. But Steve was looking up at her so earnestly, with such unabashed care on his face, that what little reservation she had left dissolved. She sank down with a sigh, grateful that Steve was using his own folded blanket as a buffer against the cold ground, and quickly fitted her back against the warm expanse of his chest. Steve drew his knees up on either side of her legs, wrapped both arms around her, and tucked his chin over her shoulder. 

“Better?” He whispered, the unshaved stubble of his cheek scratching pleasantly against her throat. 

“Mmm.” Peggy closed her eyes and let her head drop back against his shoulder. Steve gave off heat like a banked fire in his own right, and the feeling as it sank into her muscles and down to her bones was as close to bliss as she was comfortable getting to with six other men no more than 50 feet away. 

“Peg?” Steve jostled her gently. “Are you falling asleep?”

“No.” Peggy rocked her head back and forth against his shoulder. “Although I am starting to feel badly about the tent mates you’ve abandoned. This is quite the service you provide.” 

“Eh, they won’t miss me.” Steve’s chuckle rumbled against her back. “You wouldn’t know it, but Monty’s actually a much better cuddler than I am.” 

“Is that so? Then perhaps I’m better off giving up on Captain America and joining my fellow countryman instead.” Peggy snickered, belying herself further as she burrowed deeper into Steve’s embrace. 

“Well, if that’s where your heart truly lies…” Steve hummed a few off-key bars of _God Save the King_ into her ear until she elbowed him into silence. 

They sat without speaking for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet and the rare opportunity to be alone together. Peggy was beginning to feel like she might fall asleep after all when Steve spoke. 

“Do you miss England?” 

Peggy frowned. “Not really. I was there only a week ago, and the rockets bombarding London hardly make it a hospitable place at the moment. On the whole I would say Poland is a marked improvement. Temperature notwithstanding.” 

“Yeah. I suppose I meant do you miss your home the way it was before the war. Would you want to go back there? To the way it was?” 

“Well,” Peggy reflected. “I could certainly do without the bombing. But… my life was very different before. Much quieter. It would be difficult to simply move back home to Hampstead and pretend that nothing had changed--that I haven’t changed.” Peggy paused and tugged at a loose thread on her sleeve before she gathered her resolve. “Do you think about the future?” 

“You mean the push into Russia next month?” Steve asked, with a kind of grim determination in his voice. 

“No, darling.” Peggy laughed softly, although it wasn’t especially funny. “I mean after the war.” 

“Oh.” Steve shifted behind her. “It’s difficult. I have a hard time picturing it, honestly. What it’ll be like when this is all over. Whether I’ll even be---” 

Steve cut himself off, but Peggy could feel the word hanging in the air between them. Steve coughed uncomfortably. “I mean, thinking about it sometimes feels like tempting fate.”

“Perhaps.” Peggy reached out and squeezed one of his knees. “It will end though. One way or another.” 

She didn’t think it was hubris to acknowledge that the tide of the war had been shifting in favour of the Allies since D-Day six months earlier. There was still so much to do, and Peggy knew as well as Steve that Hydra was no less a threat than ever, but still... there was now that faint glimpse of an end in sight. It scared her sometimes to imagine it, as much as it thrilled her. How uncertain everything would be then. And how much she wanted it. 

“Would you stay with the army, do you think?” Peggy asked after a moment. 

“I don’t know. It’s not likely Senator Brandt or any of his bunch will want to drag me around the country selling victory bonds without a war on. Especially not after that stunt I pulled in Washington.” He stilled, obviously thinking it over carefully, and Peggy realized how much she appreciated him taking her question seriously. “I can’t just be a symbol again, I want to be somewhere I can do real good.” He finally spoke. “Whatever that ends up being.” He bumped his chin against her temple. “What about you? You gonna stay with the SSR if they don’t disband?” 

Peggy considered. “Perhaps. If the work is still important. I don’t think--I mean, I know I can’t simply stop this to go be a typist, or make coffee, or… stay at home mending someone’s socks.” Steve chuckled in agreement. “I need to make a difference too.” 

“I have absolutely no doubt you will. Anything you put your mind to, Peggy--you could run the SSR if you wanted to. I don’t think anyone would try and stop you--and they’d be fools if they did.”

The strength of sincerity in Steve’s voice caused sudden tears to well up in her eyes, and Peggy had to blink quickly into the cold air before she could turn her head to look at him. She raised one hand and touched his jaw gently. 

“I don’t think anyone believes in me the way you do.” 

“Nah. You were the one who believed in me first, remember?” Steve dipped his head, brushing a kiss against her outstretched fingertips. “I’m just returning the favour.” 

Peggy stilled, listening carefully to make sure she couldn’t hear the tell-tale sounds of Dum-Dum returning from his watch, before she tugged Steve’s head down further, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders as she twisted and pressed her mouth to his. She could feel Steve’s eyelashes brush against her cold cheek as he blinked in surprise, as he always did when she kissed him, before they fluttered closed in pleasure as he leaned in. 

Steve grinned as they broke apart, bumping her nose as he drew in a shaky breath. “So London, Washington… Leningrad. I guess there’s a lot of places we might end up, huh?” 

“Yes, I suppose there are a lot of possibilities. It is a big world after all.” 

“What do you think about Brooklyn?” Steve asked, his tone carefully casual. 

Peggy felt her heart thump, and she ducked her head to hide her wide smile. “...I could grow to like Brooklyn. For the right reasons.” 

Steve drew her back into his arms and pressed a kiss into her hair. “Well. That’s something then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure many people saw Peggy's extended interview from CA:TWS that started circling tumblr at the beginning of this [week](http://eatingcroutons.tumblr.com/post/138855141640/peggy-carters-1951-1953-interview-part-of-which). It struck me (after I watched it four times in a row and then took an hour or so to recover) that Peggy really starts to struggle with the memory of Steve when the interviewer brings up that last winter of the war. So I began to imagine Peggy, remembering that winter eight years later as a time when--yes, the fighting was harsh and difficult--but she was there, fighting alongside the Howling Commandos. And she and Steve were at a point in their relationship, after a year side-by-side, where they were starting to look ahead and imagine what their life together could be like. 
> 
> So that winter started with so much hope and possibility. And it ended with Steve dying. I think that would have made it very difficult indeed.


End file.
